


An Interlacement of the Parts

by Paian



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cock Rings, Established Relationship, Graphic Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay, POV Alternating, Porn Battle, Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paian/pseuds/Paian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>knot: (n) an interlacement of the parts of one or more flexible bodies</i></p><p>One sex scene from two points of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interlacement of the Parts

**Author's Note:**

> For Porn Battle VI, prompts 'feather,' 'thrust,' 'control' (the Daniel section), 'feather,' 'thrust,' 'hunger' (the Jack section).

> bowline: a rope used to keep the weather edge of a square sail taut forward when the ship is close-hauled

  


Daniel strained towards the fleeting brush of the feather across his nipples and was glad for the clothesline binding his wrists together over his head and tethering him to the crossbar under the bed; the involuntary arch yanked his upper body tight, tension singing through the line and into the bedframe, skin stretching over the muscle and bone beneath it, and intensified the sensation of the feather tip running across his lower abs, up his side, into his armpit, up the tender, exposed inside upper arm. Gooseflesh bloomed all over him, prickling across his ass cheeks seated warmly in the hollows of Jack's hips, tightening both nipples. The prickly shiver doubled when Jack ran the feather up the other side, and pushed out into a moan when the feather crossed from his arm to stroke his face. His breath made the ends of the soft filaments flutter.

Down at the other end of the universe, within the expansion of dark sensory infinity the thin silk blindfold created, Jack's hips pushed back against the push of Daniel's arching body, rubbing thick, fleshy hardness along the inside of him while the feather skimmed light as thought down the center of his chest. Its vector led to his throbbing glans, and he whimpered in expectation; he'd had a cock ring on for half an hour, not cinched up tight enough to stop him orgasming but squeezing his balls and his dick to what felt like a huge, engorged prominence, and it had increased his sensitivity to where the touch of air was almost too much stimulation. But instead of touching the feather to Daniel's glans, Jack gave another thrust, a flesh-on-flesh _shove_ to remind him how deeply he was being fucked and how completely he'd given himself over to Jack's control.

It was superb control. If it were him on the other side of this, he'd have come ages ago, unable to hold out against the spasms that cascaded down his rectal muscles every time Jack edged him close, the reflexive tightening of his anus every time Jack feathered another nerve discharge across his skin, the sight of his own partner impaled on him, raised up for him on pillows, straining after the lightest touch, cinched up taut and bulging, whimpering. But Jack could go on like this indefinitely, playing with him, finding new ways to extend the pleasure without tipping him over too soon. The only time Jack couldn't hold it was when it got rough, and that was the only time Daniel could; so they held each other, found these balance points between stimulation and release. Later on he'd fuck Jack back to hardness, taking him against a wall or over a table, desensitizing himself with the same harsh friction that got Jack off, driving him repeatedly to the edge and back until the swearing started -- the profanity that was Jack's version of begging. He groaned at the prospect, the fantasy under the blindfold, and that was when the feather touched his penis.

The first pass was the soft edge of it. The second was the flat, a swirling flourish over his distended sac and rigid shaft; the tiny hooks of barbicels dragged along his hypersensitized skin, catching like velcro on velvet at the crown. Jack stroked its length along his length, shaft to shaft, vane over vein, punning with touch. In sharp counterpoint to the light teasing of his trussed-up package and the deep hard delving of his ass, Jack reached up to twist an erect nipple between thumb and forefinger; the confluence of sensations pushed a gasping shudder through Daniel. It was a 'fuck really gotta come now' response that Jack never denied.

Jack abandoned the nipple to its own delicious ache and moved those fingers to the head of Daniel's cock. Squeezing and tugging the swollen head with his left hand, Jack rubbed the feather's edge across the shaft with his right, working gradually downwards. Pushed in one direction, it stroked silky smooth; pulled in the other, it went sharply against the lay of the barbs. When that sensation crossed Daniel's scrotum, he drove his heels into Jack's tailbone, driving Jack even deeper into his ass, and came in a dam-bursting gush, a blinding explosion in the silken dark.

Jack waited until he went limp and reached up to slip the knots at wrists and head before he followed in three sharp thrusts. He was stroking Daniel's mouth as he came, his thumb feather-soft on Daniel's lips. Daniel waited until Jack melted over him, face in his chest, before he picked up the fallen feather.

> sheet bend: a bend or hitch used for temporarily fastening a rope to the bight of another rope or to an eye

  


The silk hiding Daniel's eyes brought his mouth to delicious prominence. The braided cotton camping line holding his hands over his head, the wedge of pillows raising his ass brought every line of his upper body into beautiful definition. The hot interior of him molding around Jack's dick made Jack feel huge, engorged, as rigidly hard as Daniel's dick in the snug embrace of the cock ring. The double ring held Daniel's package in its just-before-shooting state, veins throbbing under taut skin, prominent ridge of glans standing out from the shaft, rounded ball sac tight as a drum. Jack's fingertips still held the feel of that growing hardness from when he'd put the ring on him. They'd both been on the edge for twenty minutes, and the flesh-memory nearly tipped him over. He tightened his fingers on the feather he was holding, the substitute shaft.

He swept the feather across Daniel's nipples and lifted it away. It was like pulling Daniel's body up by a string: he chased the vanished touch, all that supple, dense muscle arching. His nipples sharpened as if they were reaching for it too. His heels slid down Jack's back -- absently, Jack thought, same as his fingers were fanning and curling, like somebody talking in their sleep in ASL -- and Jack choked down on the _god, yessss_ moan that would make Daniel aware of what he'd done. For Daniel, ecstasy came from Jack's focused, deliberate, conscious stimulation of his body, from Jack's most intense attention; for Jack it was in the moments of inattention, the most thoughtless, most telling touches, the way Daniel stroked him when Daniel was thinking about something else.

Jack ran the feather down and around and up, down and around and up the other side, then across to brush Daniel's open mouth; he yearned for that mouth, wanted to eat it, drink it, wanted to drop the toy and run his hands all over that warm skin, reach fingertips under to explore the stretch of anus around his shaft, massage his palm over balls and cock. Touching Daniel with the feather kept his hands off him, kept his mouth off him. Gave them a few more minutes of not-coming, a few more minutes where Daniel could float in the arousal dreamspace behind the blindfold and inside his skin.

More like seconds now, judging from the keening plea Daniel let out when Jack gave a thrust to remind him of his ass and ran a feathery tease from breastbone to groin without touching the erection thrust up over Daniel's belly. He waited, poised, while the intensity of touch and no-touch percolated through the hot darkness under the silk, and when Daniel groaned, like the rumble of thunder after the lightning, he stroked the feather over Daniel's balls and Daniel's cock, twisted a sharp burn into a nipple, and Daniel gave the breathy hitching gasp that told Jack it was time to bring it home.

He closed his fingers around the distended glans, giving almost enough pressure and friction to defeat the cock ring, but not quite. He turned the feather on edge and lightly sawed it down the length of Daniel's shaft, smooth-rough, smooth-rough -- making him wait for it, making him curve his body the other way to tip his hips up and beg to feel the light, exquisite rake of those tiny barbs across his tender, aching balls.

_Here it comes, baby,_ Jack thought, and gave it to him.

Daniel's cock jerked hard in his grip and the first spurt of come greased Jack's fingers. He dropped the feather and popped the cock ring to really let it rip, leaving the silicone scrotum ring because there was no way to get it off one-handed anyway and he knew how much harder Daniel came with his balls pulled away from his body. Daniel shot three more times, and Jack kept working the glans with his fingertips, massaging the slippery come back into it, drawing it out as long as possible. When he was sure the well was tapped out and Daniel's bones were in the process of jellifying, he leaned forward to slip the bow on the blindfold, then leaned a little farther to tug the loop out of the sheet bend he'd rigged below the edge of the mattress. It shifted his dick deep inside the thick heat of Daniel's ass, and he groaned, and started to come. He managed to get in three good thrusts before he shot, three jolts of lightning up his spine and through his balls, and then he pulsed for a long time, stroking Daniel's sweet, lax mouth with his fingers, because now he could.

Daniel didn't shake off the blindfold or bring his hands down right away. Even when Jack collapsed onto him face-first, burying himself in Daniel's chest, Daniel's skin, Daniel's smell, Daniel didn't give a get-this-rubber-thing-off-me wriggle or move his head; there was just a stretch-and-settle as he eased his legs down to hook behind Jack's, and a little jig in his arms as he got enough play to pick the French bowline off one wrist with the other hand. By the time his arms came down Jack's back in a thoughtless drag of silk and rope, Jack was boneless too, his softened skin hungry for the things he never knew how to ask for: the long light scratches of something sharp, the soothing brush of something soft.

Idly, as if he was barely aware that he was doing it, Daniel picked up the feather.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to WritinginCT for prompting for the scene from Jack's point of view.


End file.
